


Harry Potter Haikus

by valis2



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Haiku, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-19
Updated: 2009-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valis2/pseuds/valis2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Individual haikus, and sets of haikus, each told from a single character's vantage point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2-19-2005

**Ginnyku**  
She still sees him in  
the mirror. She remembers  
wringing necks, cold eyes.

**Severusku**  
There is only one  
potion left that excites him;  
black, viscous poison.

**Ronku**  
All those voices, gone,  
chasing dragons, curse-breaking,  
serving the Dark Lord.

**Hermioneku**  
Will all those books tell  
her how to save him? Will she  
thwart death with her mind?


	2. 4-27-2008

** Snapeku **

This is his truth, his  
hot rage, controlled and harnessed--  
a potion, brewing.

** Luciusku **

Once, he would have bowed,  
given everything and more,  
but now--not his son.

** Bellatrixku **

In the mirror of  
Erised, she sees only  
Him, yes, always Him.

** Lupinku **

Silver has never  
fettered me, until this night,  
this soft kiss, this ring.

** Tom Riddleku **

A false heart echoes,  
coaxes promises, is not  
afraid of thieving.

** Ronku **

Ron has courage, hope  
and raw bravery in spades.  
Except around her.

** Snapeku **

Raw and hot, scalding  
his mouth, revenge turns on him.  
She was to be spared.

** Mollyku **

Boy after boy, the  
house fills with shouts, unwashed clothes.  
I need an ally.

** Bellatrixku **

Black-hearted, they say.  
But I am not--mine is hot,  
green, sweet with venom.

** Snapeku **

There are two faces  
in the mirror. One, polished  
and smooth, grey and black.

The other--sullen,  
fingernails bitten to the  
quick. He hates them both.

** Goyleku **

Again he dreams of  
the cupcake, moist and soft, sweet  
slumber in his mouth.

** Firenzeku **

I have watched harsh Mars  
rising bloody in the sky,  
promising war, death.

I have seen the snake,  
prey caught in its coils, low  
on the horizon.

I have hoped, in the  
dark, for the stars to lie, to  
hide their stark knowledge.

I have burned the leaves,  
torn apart the cards, melted  
the coins, but it is

too late, there is war,  
this peace was never meant to last.  
Mars is bright tonight.


	3. 9-24-2009

** Bellatrixku **

If I could slither,  
If I could taste the dirt with  
my tongue, breathe venom,

shed my skin and rise  
again, new and itching to  
bleed for my love, if

I could crawl, belly  
in the grass, unseen, sly, to  
strike hot-toothed, foaming

poison, if I could  
wind my coils around you, my  
lord, squeeze until you

cried my name, gave me  
your cold, harsh kiss--still I would   
not be satisfied.

** Severusku **

I dream of red hair,  
a choice, a vow, a snarl, the  
edge of a sharp breath

between empty night  
and the hot rush of vengeance  
sought. I dream of a

garden of deadly  
herbs, a cauldron of something  
that tastes like freedom.

** Millicentku **

I do not trust words  
like _fair_. Better the snake who  
tells lies, than the friend.

** Fleurku **

Another language, blunt  
and heavy on my tongue, red  
meat on my table.

Heavy and fine, the  
dress in my closet, the hem  
scorched, black with mud. To

begin in the dark,  
the lynx uttering its flat  
and fearful message,

this is not what I  
would have wished, a cake smashed and  
ruined on the ground,

our date now fixed and  
remembered with blood and green  
fire. I know I

have left safety far   
behind, a shimmering well  
of soft blue water.

The dark sea remains,  
green and ferocious, striking  
the cliff with fury.

I dream of a day  
of peace, of fresh ripe figs, clean  
and sweet on my tongue.

** Riddleku **

I crave something far  
sweeter than nectar, far more  
precious than gold.

** Goyleku **

Fire, unnatural  
and wild, his eyes fierce with joy.  
Then I watched him burn.

** Slughornku **

I see connections,  
spinning in the air, rich and  
full of sweet promise.

A slice of candied  
pineapple, melting on the  
tongue, a word in a

well-positioned ear,  
a nudge and a wink and a  
sly promise uttered

between the handshake  
and the parting smile, I  
have the touch, I see

doors opening as  
I speak. Of course I will help  
you, if you help me.

** Billku **

I can break curses  
with my bare hands. Except the  
one that matters most.

**Ceceliaku** [Cecelia was Tom Riddle senior's girlfriend in one of the memories in HBP.]

Tom is a handsome  
man, we are a good match, I  
begin to plan our

wedding. Violets and  
sweetpeas, chiffon, point d'esprit,  
vows and a manor.

We go riding, you  
and I, our path lined with the  
prettiest bluebells.

Snake, snake, swinging on  
the door, poor simple creature,  
poor cottage, poor girl.

The talk begins in  
the village. Tom is engaged.  
I am not alarmed

yet. But the whispers  
grow from door to door, and the  
stares grow longer, and

I begin to sense  
my crinoline unraveling,  
my flowers wilting,

my manor fading.  
And there is Tom, in the street,  
he looks my way but

does not see me. And  
it's her, poor girl from the poor  
cottage, the foul tramp's

daughter, wild-eyed, my  
Tom holding her arm, but he  
is not my Tom now,

is he? My love breaks  
and scatters. I smile, offer  
congratulations,

but I can feel the  
eyes upon me, the titters  
behind palms, the jests

in the pub. In my  
room I lie on my bed, think  
of his glassy eyes.

** Albusku **

A plan within a  
plan, a night with barely a  
chance of dawn, the tide

rises to drown us  
with foaming poison and myrrh.  
The only funeral

I look forward to  
is my own. I have set my  
traps, placed upon the

hook the finest bait.  
Nothing remains, save the harsh  
fall to earth. I no

longer waste time with  
hope. Tom's crude end-game is in  
sight. He does not see

that love is a  
far better trap than any  
that he could devise.

** Arthurku **

This house, loud and full,  
this garden, these gnomes, this clock  
with wondrous hands, these

cooking pots, this broom,  
these broken quills, this cauldron  
caked with rust, this old

owl, this Sneakoscope,  
these suspicious candies, this  
single mitten, these

school robes with frayed cuffs,  
these daisies behind the shed,  
this chestnut tree, these

broken crayons, this  
bowl of ripe berries, this blue  
quilt, these baby shoes

(most likely Ginny's),  
this stroppy enchanted car,  
this battered kettle

still smelling of tea,  
this bent fork, this bottle of   
sand (from Egypt?), these

mint leaves cool on the  
tongue, this jar of Floo powder,  
these pale shells from the

sea, this portrait of a  
relative no one knows, this  
empty mug with chipped

handle, this kitchen  
table, scarred and lopsided,  
these fine clamoring

children, this shining  
warm wife, yes, I will defend  
all this, to the death.

** McGonagallku **

There is never the  
time I need. Always there is  
someone crying, a

teacup with a tail,  
someone hexing, a boggart  
hiding homework, a

love potion gone wrong,  
someone in a Vanishing  
Cabinet. It does

not end. There are nights  
I spend with bawling first years  
(and Ogden's finest).

There are owls from   
parents, howlers from parents,   
Hagrid's lesson plan,

Peeves and his smashing  
attempt at an ink fountain.  
I try to find a

space to breathe, a cup   
of tea, a moment in front   
of the fire, but the

worries always flock   
around me. Each year the dark  
grows stronger, and we

seem to slip, but to  
swim against the tide is the  
only thing I know.


End file.
